


Felled By You

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [174]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, F/M, Grave Robbers, Witch!Caroline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 03:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19033927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: In need of an ingredient for a spell, Caroline's trespassing on vampire territory. Luckily, Klaus is willing to look the other way.





	Felled By You

**Felled By You**

**(Prompt: "listen, you're a big bad vampire with huge pointy teeth, you're scary, I know. I'm totally shaking in my pants. and i get im not supposed to be trespassing over your nest grounds, but all i need is one measly tooth for a spell and ill be right on my way, alright? yes—yes i know you can kill me, so can a cat if it truly wanted to, but im here on business so can we act like adults" Title from "NFWMB" by Hozier. Rated T)**

Caroline's managed to get down about two feet into the grave, is filthy, with aching shoulders and raw palms, when she hears the first rustling in the trees. She stops digging, holds her breath. Strains her ears. Reaches behind her back, slowly, and tugs out the gun she's got tucked away in her waistband.

She doesn't drop the shovel. On the off chance that it's a werewolf who's wandered far from their territory she'll have more luck with blunt force than a wooden bullet.

Killing a vampire would upset the uneasy peace that the supernatural species that call New Orleans home have lived under for the last few months. Caroline doesn't relish doing it but, with her best friend's life on the line, she'd come armed. She'd come alone, to the cemetery where vampires bury their dead. She'd planned on committing a grave robbing. Only a moron wouldn't have prepared for trouble.

On the drive over she'd methodically catalogued all the things that could go wrong. Now, with a gun in one hand, her other ready to swing the shovel, she goes down the list. Best case scenario, it's just an animal hunting up a late dinner. Even if it's a human she can deal with the interruption fairly easily.

She just doesn't have time to waste.

Bonnie's getting sicker, the poison she'd ingested weakening her heart by the hour. Caroline can't afford the minutes it would take to subdue a late night power walker or some drunk who'd wandered away from a bonfire. She  _could_  manage it easily. It's one of her specialties, spells to remove memories or impart her will. It's a tricky branch of magic, requiring concentration and delicacy, and Caroline won't risk weakening herself.

Most of her coven is gathered with Bonnie, pooling their energy to sustain hers. Caroline and a handful of others had left to gather the ingredients to save her. When Caroline gets back she will insist on performing the ritual herself. She doesn't anticipate much opposition. Few in her coven are a match for her power.

Caroline  _wants_  to believe the threat to Bonnie had come from outside the coven. But, until she can be certain, she's not about to let her friend's life rest in anyone's hands but her own. It's only logical to be suspicious. Witches with regular access to Bonnie, those that came and went freely from her home, shared food and drink, are the most likely culprits.

When Bonnie's recovered, capable of seeking retribution, it'll be time to hunt for snakes.

A sharp crack sounds, a stick breaking under the weight of a foot.

So much for optimism.

Caroline drops the shovel and spins, using two hands to steady the gun, her finger resting on the trigger. She's a damn good shot, thanks to her mother, is confident she can manage to get the heart even if a vampire uses maximum speed.

Except, when she sees  _who_  the vampire is, she hesitates. She recognizes Klaus instantly, despite the darkness. She'd gotten to know his face, the slash of his cheekbones and the strength of his jawline, in a strobe-lighted club that her coven elders would be appalled to know she went to regularly. They'd never really spoken, just exchanged the a few necessary shouted words – a need for a drink or the bathroom or to call it a night.

She knows his taste, what his skin feels like when damp with sweat. She's felt the rumble of a moan caught in his throat against her lips, has bitten into his shoulder while his hand works under her skirt, coaxing her to orgasm with gifted fingertips and explicit words.

What she hadn't known was his name. Or his species. Not that she's offered any information about herself. The club had been an escape, a time when she didn't have to be William Forbes' only daughter, where no one expected anything of her.

 _Had_  been.

She's been avoiding the place since she'd found out the guy she'd been regularly groping on the dance floor was the hybrid who'd declared himself King of New Orleans.

Relaxing her guard at the sight of him, the little rush of pleasure she feels, is instinct, a  _terrible_  one, but by the time Caroline's brain catches up Klaus is right in front of her, his hand locked around her wrist.

She's so pissed at herself, at her stupid body that's certain he's not going to hurt her.

His grip on her is firm but not punishing. He smiles, just as fond as he'd been before he'd known her identity, and squeezes gently, "Mind dropping the weapon? I think we need to have a chat."

She sighs, does as he asks. "It's plain ol' oak. Wouldn't do anything to you anyway."

"I assure you, digging a bullet out of one's flesh is unpleasant no matter what it's made of."

Caroline wants to ask when he'd been shot, has a few dark thoughts for the probably long dead perpetrators. Has to remind herself, again, that he's not an ally. Not hers, in any way. She forces a smile, thin and fake, "Aw, poor baby. Somehow I'm not at all surprised people want to shoot you."

The noise he makes seems like genuine amusement and he's still touching her, his thumb stroking over her forearm. "Now, now, Caroline. I've gathered plenty of stories about you and not a single one paints you as a liar. Let's not pretend you've never enjoyed my company."

"Maybe because you didn't talk."

He's annoyingly unoffended. Klaus' free hand lifts to her face, a fingertip touching her forehead. "You've got a bit of dirt here."

Caroline snorts, rubs at the spot with the sleeve on the arm that's not currently in his grasp. "I'm betting it's more than a bit and not confined to one area of my face."

He steps back, finally dropping her hand. Caroline refuses to be disappointed that he's no longer touching her. He bends to pick up her dropped shovel, spears the tip of it into the earth with little effort. He leans on it, the picture of idleness, glancing around curiously, "True. Grave digging is an awfully messy endeavour. Difficult to do solo as well."

"Wow. That's really unsubtle fishing." She crosses her arms to gain a little distance. At least until she's totally committed to ignoring the pull of him.

"It's not fishing. Merely a statement of fact." He pushes his sleeves up and Caroline averts her eyes. More of his skin on display can only up his appeal. "Did you want a hand?"

"Why would you help me? I'm trespassing. Shouldn't you be trying to rip out my heart?"

"You can't think I want you dead."

In her gut, she doesn't. He's had plenty of opportunity to hurt her.

Caroline wishes she wasn't standing in a shallow grave because being this close to him is making her skin itch. She'd like to blame it on the layer of grime she's sporting but it's not an uncomfortable feeling. It's anticipatory. Needful, egged on by the memories of their bodies moving together.

Totally inappropriate given just  _who_  he is.

She's got a mission, an important one; she can't afford to be distracted.

Caroline decides to be direct. "I need a tooth. One that belonged to a vampire."

He nods, does not appear at all surprised. "For your friend that's been poisoned."

He shouldn't know that.  _How_  does he? The obvious conclusion is rage inducing.

"You…" she's shaking, accusations and insults tangling on her tongue. Her magic gathers, lashes out, not entirely in her control. Klaus grunts when it hits him, his face contorting in pain. Not  _enough_  pain. He should be screaming, on his knees, trying to tear apart his own skull to make it stop.

He's old and strong but a small part of her is hesitant to hurt him, and that gives him a window to move. He manages to stagger forward, into her. Caroline trips over loose dirt and her concentration is broken. They both begin to go down, Klaus gripping her closer. A twist of his hips had them landing on their sides, his arm under her head and his body taking most of the impact.

He recovers first, is smart enough to get her under him, pinning her hands before she can attempt, however futilely, to claw his pretty blue eyes out. Caroline's viciously pleased that, when he speaks, he's a touch out of breath, "It's not what you think."

"Oh?" Caroline bites out, trying to use her feet to gain some leverage, "You have no idea what I think."

"I didn't poison your friend."

"Like you'd admit that."

He tangles their legs together, pinning her easily. His eyes remain human, no hint of fangs visible. "I'm not here to stop you from saving her."

That stills her. The weight of him eases as she stops struggling to glare up at Klaus suspiciously, "How could you possibly know Bonnie's sick if you didn't do it?"

"I have an eyes and ears in every coven in this city, sweetheart."

Well, that's believable. Alarming but Caroline adds it to her list of things to worry about later. "Why would you tell me that?"

"Because I'd like you to trust me."

She's too shocked to search for the lie, can't manage to hide her reaction. Sputters a bit, when she replies, "You're a vampire.  _The_  original hybrid. I'm a witch."

His lips twist and if he even thinks about needling her for stating the blindingly obvious she's going to toss another aneurysm at him.

He takes his time in answering, rolling them to the side once more. He lets her wrists free but one of his hands comes to rest on her hip. He crowds closer, his forehead resting against hers like he's about to impart a secret. "I knew exactly who you were the night we met. I assumed you knew who I was."

"What?" she exclaims. The parade of revelations has obliterated her ability to appear calm and collected. "Why would I have…" Caroline's hand lifts, fingers fluttering in a vague gesture that doesn't even begin to encompass how intimate their bodies have been.

"Your father might have been notoriously anti vampire but plenty of witches take a more relaxed stance. Some of the… mercantile spirited mingle for financial gain. Others make  _personal_  connections."

It's ridiculous but a flash of jealousy  _burns_. "I really didn't need to know that you've spent a thousand years boning every witch who batted their eyes in your direction."

This time he does laugh, and they're pressed close enough that Caroline can feel his body shake with it. "It's gratifying to know you've not managed to convince yourself to hate me, love."

"You're lucky I need to conserve my magic," Caroline grumbles. And also that she doesn't  _want_  his brain to leak out of his eardrums but he doesn't need to know that.

"Your friend Bonnie, for instance, has been keeping company with my brother for months."

She bites back another shrill noise of surprise, shoving at his chest. Caroline knows about Bonnie's vampire boyfriend ( _boyfriends_ , technically) but she hadn't wheedled out the truth of their identities. She totally gets why Bon had been cagey now. Plus, she'd only found out recently and has been sworn to secrecy. "I'm going to need you to stop talking." She needs a second or two to process.

Klaus doesn't try to stop her when she draws away. He gets to his feet, offers her his hand. "Shall I dig, then?"

She allows him to help her up, eyeing him warily. She flexes her stinging palms. "If you don't mind. I should have brought gloves."

He grabs her hands, expression growing stormy as he turns her palms up. They're red, blistered, and he makes a noise that conveys his displeasure as inspects them. "You should have mentioned you were hurt," he says, his tone lecturing.

"It's nothing." She tries a joke, "Just my fragile mortal body protesting manual labor."

His glance up is entirely unamused. "We'll have to bandage these as soon as we're done here."

She doesn't get a chance to protest, to remind him that she's on a time crunch, because he turns and whistles sharply. Three bodies materialize out of the trees and Caroline freezes as she assesses the threat. "They're with me," Klaus murmurs, and she notices that each man, vampire or maybe hybrid, carries a shovel.

"They've been here this whole time?"

"Waiting for my signal."

So, even when she'd attacked him with her power, they hadn't moved against her. " _Why_  are you helping me?" Caroline blurts.

He leans in, his lips just brushing her ear, speaks quietly enough that she's probably the only one who can hear him, "I do believe I've already answered that question."

He moves away before she can question him, swiftly enough that when her hands reach to pull him back they close on nothing. He notices though, glancing back at her with a pleased little smirk as he strips off his jacket. Caroline's hands fall, clenching into fists at her sides.

She half expects the smug jerk to strip his shirt off too.

Is a little disappointed when he doesn't.

Klaus directs the vampires he'd brought with a few flicks of his hand, grabs her discarded shovel and digs in. She takes a few big steps back as dirt starts to fly, "I have to take the tooth myself." It's a condition of the ritual.

Klaus pauses, glancing up at her, "I trust you brought pliers?"

"Duh." She fishes them out of her pocket, holding them up as proof.

He nods approvingly, "Good. We'll be just a few minutes."

Klaus returns to his task. She considers looking away, knows she probably shouldn't be ogling him. Not when she's still not sure if she can trust his motivations.

He wants her to trust him, but  _why_?

Caroline grabs the bag she'd discarded earlier, pulls a bottle of water from it. She drinks as she watches them, impressed at the rapid deepening of the hole she'd labored over.

Try as she might, she can't convince herself that Klaus is trying to play her. She's got a healthy confidence in her own abilities but witches are thick on the ground in New Orleans and she can list a half a dozen that match her in power. Of those at least two could be easily bought, and a third who's hungry for influence. In a few decades she could be coven leader but, in truth, the position holds little appeal. Caroline's come to love New Orleans but it's beginning to chafe on her, just as Mystic Falls had.

If she chose to lead the coven she'd be stuck and she doesn't think she'll ever want that.

The digging slows and Caroline moves closer, sees that they've hit bone. Shovels are discarded as they begin to use their hands. Caroline figures she's up again when the three vampires climb out and head back the way they'd come.

She hopes her swirling thoughts, indecisive as they'd been, are well hidden when Klaus beckons her over. He's got the skull in his hand and he watches her intently as she jumps down into the grave. "They'll cover it up again when we leave."

"Your help is well trained."

"They're hybrids. Brand new."

Her brows lift in surprise at the admission, "You agreed not to make any more hybrids."

"Actually, what I agreed, was that I would not turn an  _unwilling_  werewolf."

Caroline hadn't been directly involved in those negotiations but she's not surprised Klaus Mikaelson had crafted himself a loophole. "And how exactly did you find willing werewolves?"

"Rather easily, actually." She expects him to elaborate but he doesn't, holding the skull out. She can't blame him for wanting to get down to business.

Caroline squints down at it, "I've never removed teeth before."

"Does your spell specify what type you need?"

"I don't think so. I have someone working on a more precise translation so I thought I'd grab a few just to be safe."

"Best get to work then."

The skull is steady in his hands, his grip solid when she yanks, providing enough resistance for her to work the more stubborn teeth out. He's mostly quiet, lets her move his hands as needed. Caroline pockets the teeth carefully, reminds herself that she's doing this for Bonnie whenever a scrape of a crunch of bone leaves her cringing. When she's satisfied she's got what she needs (plus a few extras because she strongly believes in planning for contingencies) she puts the pliers away. "Okay, I think I'm good. Hopefully everyone else was successful."

"Should you need any more assistance I'd be happy to help."

"Yeah, I'm still kind of puzzled about why."

His eyes sharpen, impatient and a tinge angry for the first time. "I had business in that club the first night. Business that I ended up neglecting. And I'd never have returned if not for you. You cannot be entirely unaware of your own appeal."

He says it snidely, making it a dig instead of a compliment. Caroline bristles, "Don't pretend like it's ridiculous that I might question your motives."

"Hence," he shoots back, "why I understand that earning your trust will take time." He's holding himself rigidly, not attempting to hide his frustration. It seems like an admission that's difficult for him to make.

She's not one to trust easily. Is already planning to dig into some of the coven's older grimoires. She's certain she'd seen a spell or two that would block a being with ill intentions from entering a witch's home.

Will Klaus be able to cross her threshold? Caroline certainly hopes so.

"I… don't object to that. To you trying." Her coven's another story. At least, given Bon's taste in vampires, she'll have a friend in her corner.

Klaus relaxes incrementally but his next offer is still stiff, "Perhaps we should exchange phone numbers.

She finds herself laughing in disbelief, "Oh,  _now_  he offers me his phone number."

Klaus' head tips to the side in confusion, "You didn't seem particularly interested in moving our acquaintance outside of the club. I assumed it was due to our conflicting allegiances."

"I had no idea you were well, you, until that meeting a few weeks ago."

"Yes," he says dryly, "I gathered as much when you turned a sickly shade of pale and refused to so much as turn your head in my direction. The point was driven home when you didn't show up the following Saturday or on any night thereafter."

He's been incredibly helpful, and honest, so Caroline figures she can part with the truth, "I have roommates and you leave $100 bills as tips so I figured you didn't. I'd have gone home with you pretty much any night, including the first, if you'd asked."

He's obviously pleased with her confession. His body loosens, the skull falling from his hand as he inches closer. Slowly this time, giving her the opportunity to retreat.

Caroline doesn't move.

There's heat in his eyes, promises that she knows he can deliver on, and this time when her heart stutters and her skin prickles in anticipation of his touch she doesn't try to tell herself its wrong.

Is it? Probably. But, since he's not demanded anything of her, she's decided not to care.

"Any night?" he asks, lower than before. His hands skim over her hips, his palm slipping under her shirt to trace the curve of her spine. It's a blatant invitation and Caroline shivers, wishes that they were a little less filthy, that she didn't have a pressing matter to attend to.

"Any night but tonight," she amends.

He's disappointed, she can tell. His head dips, lips dragging down her throat. "Tomorrow," he replies, firm. His teeth scrape her skin, the sting quickly soothed by the heat of his mouth. When he pulls away she's breathing hard. "Dinner, first. Then dancing."

"Pick me up at six," Caroline agrees.

She kind of doubts they'll get to the dancing.


End file.
